₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎ 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝑯𝑪𝒔 ♡̸ ꒷꒦˓

Not A Verstappen: A New World {9}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Two more races closer to the end of the season and all that means is the competition is fiercer than ever and every point is a battle to win. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, assault, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten

Round Sixteen - Singapore GP

Charles was worried about you. You had barely said a word since the race ended, only congratulating your boyfriends on their great results. You were disappointed in yourself for finishing last place. Technically it was 15th place but everyone behind you had DNF’d so you were the last one to cross the finish line.

The bath did little to ease the tension embroiled in your body and you sank down beneath the surface. A wavering image of Charles filled your vision as he took a seat at the edge of the bathtub and trickled his fingers through the water. Only when your lungs began to burn did you resurface with a deep gasp for fresh air.

“You’re going to catch a cold, ma chérie,” Charles said softly as he wiped away the rivulets of water. It was almost like he knew they were mixed with your tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you whispered. “I think I am just going to stay in tonight, I don’t want to hold you back from celebrating. You guys did great today.”

“You are being too hard on yourself. It sucks, Lando and I know that first hand,” he chuckled, referring back to the first half of the season. “But you’ll come back stronger, I know you. You’ll be back in the points next week.”

You smiled weakly at his confidence and accepted his hand that helped pull you from the bath. “Are you willing to bet on that?”

“D'accord,” he nodded, wrapping you tightly in a towel before kissing your forehead. “I have faith in you, mon amour.”

“That makes one of us,” you joked, feeling a little better now that you were wrapped in his arms. “You should get ready to go, Lando is going to need you to carry him home tonight.”

“Mon Dieu, him and Carlos drinking together,” Charles groaned as if just realising what he was in for. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

You nodded and stepped out of the bathroom to grab your phone. “I think there is another Verstappen somewhere around here feeling sorry for himself too, and misery loves company.”

Max arrived before Lando had finished styling his hair and he came bearing gifts, a bag of mouthwatering food packed full of local dishes in one hand and a bottle of gin in the other. 

“Now it’s a pity party,” you laughed as he made himself comfortable in the living room. He didn’t even bother with plates, just eating straight out of the containers while he changed the channel off MTV. “Are you planning on sharing or do I need to order my own?”

“Depends if you care what Kristian thinks,” he shrugged, pushing a container aside. He grinned knowing you couldn’t turn down the grilled kebabs slathered in a sauce that would give your PT a heart attack. “Live dangerously, zusje.”

You snorted and dropped into the seat beside him, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and the dish from the coffee table. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh, heard that before,” he teased as continued to flick through the channels until he hit the movies. “Fast X?”

“No,” Lando answered for you as he finally appeared from the bathroom with his hair perfectly styled and his shirt half unbuttoned. He explained that it was to combat the humidity in the country but you and Charles knew it was because he loved to flash his tanned and toned chest, almost as much as you liked to see it. “She’ll get pissed off that it is too unrealistic.”

“It is unrealistic,” you pointed out.

Max laughed, “It’s a movie.” But he still changed the channel. “Maverick? The original.”

“Sure,” Charles said with a grin as he pulled his shoes on, “if you want to comfort her when Goose dies.”

“You are impossible.” Max shook his head and tossed the remote on your lap. “You choose something.”

Ready to leave, Charles looked like he was going to ask you if you had changed your mind before thinking better of it. Instead he kissed you as innocently as he could manage with your brother sitting beside you. “Je t’aime.”

“Love you too, have fun.” You held your hand out to Lando and pulled him down to your height for a kiss too. “Not too much fun. I don’t want to wake up to any new CarLando rumours.”

He knew you were joking and he nipped your bottom lip for it before pulling away and holding his necklace up. “Holy trinity, baby: you, Charles and me.”

“That’s why you are missing your top three buttons,” Charles teased as he slung his arm over Lando’s shoulder. “All for the necklace and definitely not vanity.”

“Me? Vain? Never,” Lando scoffed. “I am humble, thank you very much.”

“Mhmm, so humble, mon cher,” Charles agreed sarcastically as he led them to the door before blowing you one final kiss. “Bonne nuit.”

Round Seventeen - Japan GP

Lawrence wanted to speak to you after the race finished and you hoped it was because he had some answers as to why the car was struggling. The upgrades seemed to make it worse and it was a hell of a push just to get back in the points, but you had made it like Charles assured you would.

Walking into Lance’s side of the garage, you assumed his father would be nearby. What you didn’t account for was Lance storming through the engineers after his DNF. It was a moment of wrong place at the wrong time that put you into his path and you felt the need to at least say something to him.

“Sorry, man, that was a rough one.” Hindsight was a real charmer as his green eyes narrowed with rage and you were shoved to the floor. Your ass met the hard concrete and the garage fell silent as they witnessed the attack.

Your shoulders ached where he had pushed you, but your butt would surely have bruises come morning. Calmly, you swallowed down the pain as the cameras waited for your reaction and you rose to your feet. You wiped the dust from your backside and looked at Lance. “At least I know how you injured your wrists, you’re a real fucking wanker.”

Word spread like wildfire as the footage was shared around the paddock and the world and your call to the Stewards came before Lando finished his podium celebration, the first you hadn’t been there to witness. It only added to your sour mood as you stepped into the meeting room and found an empty chair opposite Lawrence and Lance. You were by no means alone but everyone who had been asked to come as witness were all on Lawrences bank roll so you might as well have been.

The tedious hearing details were read by the Stewards, along with footage that showed the push that put you on your ass. They turned to Lance first, asking for his take on the event and whispered with his father before sitting back.

“It was an accident, I didn’t see her there.”

You scoffed under your breath but caught the look Lawrence sent you as the Steward asked you the same question. It was a look that everyone had warned you about. It was the look that drew the line in the sand of who had his support, and why wouldn’t he take his son’s side - he was a father first and a principal second. It was a look that said you would be finding another team next year if you weren’t careful.

Looking down at your hands the words tasted like ash. “Like Lance said, it was an accident.”

The steward nodded and typed some notes on his laptop. “Then the matter is settled, you will be fined €20,000.00 for unsportsmanlike behaviour.”

You lunged out of your seat and slammed your hands on the table at the ruling. “For what!”

“You saw the same evidence as I did,” he said, ignoring your outburst. “You clearly called Mr Stroll, Lance, a ‘fucking wanker’ on live tv. If that is all, we have another review about to begin.”

You left the room to see Bottas and Sargeant waiting with their team representatives and kept your head low as you passed by, feeling their curious eyes following. Lawrence kept pace with you as you left the building, Lance lagging somewhere behind, and you debated breaking into a sprint to see if the old man could keep up.

“Thank you,” Lawrence said, nearly making you trip over in surprise.

“Thank you?” you growled as you turned on him. “I saved your toddler’s career, you can do better than a fucking ‘thank you’.”

“Lance is struggling and it’s affecting him badly, but that’s no excuse for how he treated you.” Lawrence placed a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off as you remembered the look in the meeting room. You may both be wearing the same colours but you were not on the same team.

“You can still be a good father and not protect him from everything. In fact, it might just do him a lot of good in getting his head out of his ass. Now, I am going to go and take an ice bath and you are going to pay my fine. If there’s a bonus in my bank account when I get back to the hotel, we’ll call it even.”

You left without giving him the time to respond and jogged back to hospitality, an unfortunately long distance from the FIA building. Some of the teams were already starting to pack their motorhomes down but Aston Martin was still lively, even more so when you stepped inside and saw Charles, Lando and Max looking tense amongst a group of Lance’s friends that travelled with him .

“Woah, stand down, killers,” you teased with a flippant attitude you didn’t feel. “Shouldn’t you take it out to the parking lot?”

“Too many witnesses,” Max muttered.

“I was joking, we can all relax. You three, my room. Now.” You pointed your finger to the stairs and waited for them to start walking before you followed, glaring at the rest of them. “Don’t you have more important things to do, like I don’t know, check Lance has warm milk in his sippy cup?”

“Little bitch.”

“Fils de pute, va te faire enculer!”

You blocked the stairs but Max had already grabbed Charles and held him back. “That’s an insult to his mother,” you said as the door opened and Lance arrived. “It’s not her fault her son is a sycophant, and here’s his sugar daddy now. Tighten the leash on your little friends, Lance. It’s the least you can do since you owe me.”

His lips twisted into a grimace at the reminder but he jutted his head to the other end of the motorhome and his friends followed him, their disappointment palpable. You could only imagine what he had been telling them in private to create that sort of reaction and realised why the driver had gone through so many teammates on the grid. He was insufferable.

You gently pushed on Charles’ arm when he didn’t move, he was intently watching the group leave and the staff return back to their jobs as if nothing happened. “Come on, babe, let’s just get my stuff and go home.”

“Since when are you the rational one?” Max asked as he led the way with Lando and left you to hook your arm with Charles and follow.

“Maybe I’m finally maturing.” you said with a grin that finally had the tension lifting as they all started to laugh. “Rude.”

Click here for the next part.

The "help me please" breaks my heart. The man asked for help so many times. He honestly deserves being so happy now...

i wish you would love me (CS55)

✰ carlos sainz x verstappen!reader ✰

summary → he would do anything to get you to love him, but he can only watch from the sidelines as you fall in love with his teammate.

genre → angst angst angst (im not sorry), self-indulgent, drabble

word count → 1.5k words

author's note → hello! this is my first iteration of breaking your heart with carlos sainz!!!!!! this is also my first time writing him so i'm sorry if things are a lil ooc, i haven't followed him as much as i do with CL16 & MV33.

carlos had always stole glances, whether he liked to admit it or not. some were lingering, but most of them were fast, quick, not wanting to linger long in case someone would catch him staring, he had grown fond of you.

you were the princess of the paddock, that was your title. some might even say that you're the queen of the paddock but you always denied the nickname, it was a silly nickname that your fans had given you and you didn't particularly feel like claiming it.

but carlos knew that you were indeed a princess, maybe the queen of his heart. he knew that with each second passing, he would slowly fall in love with you, maybe he already was. maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, much like the glances he stole.

you were the three time world champion's little sister and that meant that automatically by default, carlos was around you a lot. whether it was max's karting days and you attended his races, or him being on the formula one grid and you attending those races.

it didn't matter to carlos.

you were always nice to him, always smiling, always touchy but it didn't matter as you were touchy with everyone and that made carlos want to die on the inside.

why did you have to touch everyone so casually? why did you have to touch him and why did he feel like he was on top of the world when you did?

"carlos?" you soft voice had broken him out of his train of thought, he looks up to see you. your beautiful self standing in front of him, almost gracing him with your presence, "are you okay? you seem out of it."

"yeah, i'm alright. how are you doing, hermosa?" carlos' heart would not stop beating out of his chest, being in close proximity of you made his heart beat that way. you giggle and wave your hands in front of you, almost as if you were rejecting the small compliment that he gave you.

he found it cute, that you would always reject his compliments that way, whether intentional or not.

you scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes playfully, "you always flatter me with your nicknames, carlos," you giggled further and he stood up from where he was leaning against the wall, "i was going to ask you if you were coming to dinner tonight? you know, the ferrari one?"

carlos raised his eyebrow, how would you know about the ferrari dinner?

"yeah, of course. i am a ferrari driver afterall, aren't i?" carlos teased before you smile and laugh, carlos felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest by how fast it was beating. you were near him and willing to talk to him, even though it was as simple as asking about a stupid dinner.

"yeah, i was wondering whether you'd come or not. charles invited me to the dinner just last night," your eye-smiles shone bright, even when you didn't mean them to. a pang strikes through carlos' chest, what do you mean by charles invited you?

"charles invited you? since when were you close to charles?" carlos asked, his eyebrow raised again as you were shifting feet to feet, carlos could tell that you were nervous by the question he asked, but you decided to come out clean anyway.

"me and charles have been... seeing eachother so i've been getting invited around ferrari events a lot."

maybe that was the day carlos' heart broke.

seeing you around his side of the paddock was nice, the way you smiled, the way you cheered the team on, it was exciting for carlos. he would be able to see you more often now, ever since you published your relationship with charles.

maybe he should've expected it. maybe he didn't notice it.

while he was stealing glances at you, you were stealing glances at his teammate and that stung like a little bitch.

you were always all smiles, always lovely, always polite, always touchy, and somehow he hated it. he hated the way you touched him— hated the way you touched charles.

your arms wrapped around charles' neck, holding him close as the two of you were captured kissing as charles took his win, he came second. always second best. never good enough. never good enough to win you over. never fast enough to see the signs.

he wanted you to come over to him, run up and kiss him the exact way you kissed charles, why did it have to be his teammate out of all people? why the one person that he constantly had to spend time with, whether willingly or unwillingly?

the love he had for his teammate was slowly becoming resent, becoming something he would never feel for his teammate naturally.

it sucked.

"carlos—"

"not now cha," carlos had brushed him off as he packed up his belongings from the garage, all he wanted to do was get home and sit with himself and his feelings.

"but it's important—"

"i said not now," carlos' tone was delivered with finality, which made charles stop in his tracks, not speaking another word. he was scared to, scared that he would piss off carlos more than he was right now.

what hurt the most for carlos was that he had talked about you to him multiple times, his eyes always animated when he talked about you and charles knew, he knew how much you meant to carlos but charles didn't catch on or maybe he didn't care.

"did i do something wrong?" charles asked, he was behind carlos and his shoulder tensed up when charles asked him the stupid question, carlos felt like he wanted to punch something at the moment and right now, preferably the handsome leclerc that stood behind him.

of course he did something wrong, he stole the love of carlos' life and carlos hated him for it. why did he have to do it? why did he have to take away something that made him happy? wasn't him getting kicked out of ferrari enough for charles?

why did everything have to go his way?

"it's nothing, i'm just upset about my performance today, that's all," carlos turned around to look at charles, he was starting to realize that it wasn't charles' fault. charles did nothing wrong.

the universe just hated him.

carlos had to sit in those painful dinners with ferrari, if it wasn't mandatory for him to come, he would've never showed up in the first place. he hated having to sit there and play nice, to sit there and watch you whisper into charles' ear and when he would whisper something back in your ear and then you would giggle, to sit there and to watch the love of his life slip away from his fingers.

he knew that you never held the same type of feelings that he harbored towards you, you would always be nice and polite but that was it, and maybe he took it the wrong way. it didn't matter to him now, all that mattered was you stole his heart and there was no way you were going to give it back.

with the months watching painfully from the sidelines, watching you fall in love with his teammate, you had an announcement to make tonight.

"hello everyone! thank you for coming to tonight's dinner," you had started, you looked beautiful tonight. afterall, you would always be his hermosa in his heart, "i just wanted to announce me and charles' engagement!"

charles stood up alongside with you and smiled, wrapping an arm that carlos wished were his, holding you close with a kiss on your temple.

claps erupted around the table and carlos was the only one not clapping along with the crowd.

if it wasn't possible before, carlos' heart broke for the second time tonight.

if it wasn't bad enough that charles picked carlos to be his bestman, it was the worst when he had to stand there and watch you be led along the aisle, arm hooked with jos verstappen and walking towards charles.

and yet again, he was watching from the sidelines. never the main character in your story, but always a secondary or maybe a step-in.

your smile was so bright, you looked so happy.

he wished you looked at him the same way you looked at charles.

as you finished your vows, tears escaped from carlos' eyes, not because he was happy for his teammate, not because he was happy for you but because he was upset that it wasn't him that you were marrying today. he couldn't bare to stay and watch any further after the vows, choosing to step out of the cathedral that you were getting married to charles at.

carlos was not the same man that he was before he stepped into that cathedral that day, and maybe it was for the worst.

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤA 10/10ㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : General Thought About Their D!ck.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTES : Minors DNI. Yes I'm ashame of myself... And for people that says "but Damian is 14-16" we literally have at least 5-6 version of him as an adult, so yeah. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Let’s be real here—Bruce is packing. Not just in the Batmobile but in his pants too. You knew Gotham’s favorite billionaire had to be compensating for all the emotional repression somehow, right? Soft, he’s a solid 4.5 inches, but when he’s hard? This man is pushing 7.8 inches, and girthy enough that the first time you see it, your eyes might widen just a little (and he notices). Bruce is so well-kept it’s almost infuriating—clean-shaven, smooth, with a slight curve upwards that hits places you didn’t even know existed. The veins? Immaculate. He looks like something out of a sinful art gallery. And oh, he’s so smug about it. The type to whisper in your ear, “You’re taking me so well,” while his cock stretches you open in the most delicious way. His stamina is next level—he doesn’t cum quickly, but when he does? It’s thick, warm, and comes in heavy spurts. Not too salty either, with a clean taste (you’re welcome). He’s also quietly obsessed with how you react to him—it feeds his ego.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Alright, ladies, let’s talk about Dick. The first Robin, the golden boy—of course, he’s a damn gift in the bedroom too. Soft, he’s a respectable 4 inches, but when he’s fully hard that’s 7.5 inches, sleek and just slightly slimmer than Bruce’s (he jokes about being “aerodynamic”). Dick’s cock curves upward just right, a natural curve that always hits your G-spot perfectly, and his veins are prominent enough that you feel every ridge as he moves inside you. He’s smooth down there, neatly trimmed, and he has a little beauty mark just above his shaft (you discovered it while going down on him one day, and now you can’t stop kissing it). His tip is super sensitive—run your tongue along it, and he’s putty in your hands. And when Dick cums? It’s a lot. Like, a lot. He’s a messy boy—warm, thick, and he always gasps your name when he finishes, pressing his forehead to yours like it’s the most intimate thing in the world.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason’s cock matches his vibe: thick, heavy, and absolutely commanding. Soft? This man is 5 inches, and when he’s hard? He’s a beast at 8.5 inches with a girth that’ll make you question if you can handle it (spoiler: you’ll love it). He’s got a slight downward curve, which hits your walls just right when he’s thrusting deep. And god, the veins. Jason’s dick looks like it was carved by a lustful Greek god—thick, prominent veins that press against every inch of you in the most obscene way. He’s not as neatly trimmed as Bruce or Dick—just enough to stay presentable, but it’s Jason, so you’d expect a bit of ruggedness. His tip is flushed and sensitive, and when you wrap your lips around him, he curses low and filthy under his breath. Jason cums hard—his orgasms are so intense that he growls through them, his whole body trembling as he empties himself inside you. His cum is hot, thick, and just slightly salty, like he’s been drinking too much coffee (which, let’s be real, he has).

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Listen, Damian might be the youngest of the bunch, but don’t underestimate him. His cock is a masterpiece. Soft, he’s around 4.2 inches, and when he’s hard? A respectable 7 inches—not as long as Jason or Bruce, but he’s thicker than Dick. Damian is proud of what he’s got, too, the type to smirk and tease you about how flustered you get every time he pulls it out. His tip is a little darker than the rest of his shaft, and the veins are subtle but enough to feel every time he slides into you. He’s meticulous about grooming, of course—everything is perfectly trimmed, and he smells so damn good it drives you wild. When Damian cums, it’s deliberate and controlled—he’s not the type to lose himself completely, but that just makes it hotter. His release is warm, thick, and there’s always a smug smirk on his face when he watches you struggle to catch your breath afterward. He’s the type to kiss you deeply and whisper, “You can take more, can’t you?” because he loves pushing your limits.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

Be Honest [a jack x gn! reader oneshot] ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[slight fluff in one part, angst]

You never knew where Jack went during the day, or the afternoon, or the night. You didn't even know if his real name was Jack- it could've been Cornelius, Rupert, Travis, or Joe. You weren't sure, and you'll never be sure.

Jack wasn't very articulate at communication. Now, you wouldn't say you two were in a firm relationship either, but whatever it is, it's unhealthy. You saw him for an hour or two a day, sometimes you don't see him at all. When you did see him and attempt to converse, he'd doze off or say he needed to go see Tyler.

Who the hell was "Tyler?"

Sometimes he'd come home bruised. Or bloody. Or with a broken nose. You tried to ask about it once, but he yelled at you and told you to stay out of his business.

You didn't understand him or why you still wanted to be with him. Are you even with him?

Today, he was supposed to be back to take you out to dinner at 7 P.M. It's 9 P.M. So, you threw off your decent outfit and half-heartedly attempted to put on whatever clean clothes you could find.

You heard a knock on your apartment door, and it was probably Jack, but you made no effort to open it. He knocked a second time, nearly slamming on the door.

"Hey, open up," he said.

"It's already open," you called out from the kitchen.

The door creaked open slowly and closed within seconds. You heard footsteps walking towards you, but again, you didn't want to interact with him.

Jack grabbed you by the shoulder to turn you around. You were face-to-face with dried blood, a fresh bruise, and a raggedy looking man.

"You were supposed to take me out," you said, bitterly.

"I had to go to Lou's, I'm sorry," Jack started.

"Save it. I don't need to hear your excuses. Why did you need to go there? To get beat up? Because it sure looks like it," you gestured to his face and clothes.

"Something like that, yeah. It doesn't matter though, I'll make it up to you."

He made an effort to smile, but you couldn't see past the blood coating his teeth. You pushed his hand off your shoulder and walked to the living room. He followed you like a lost dog.

"I promise that I'll make it up to you," he pleaded.

"Get out of my apartment, Jack," you hissed, pointing towards your door.

"C'mon, let's just talk this out, alright? Communication, isn't that what you're always complaining about?"

"Complaining?" you scoffed. "You have some nerve to say I'm complaining when you're the one who doesn't even talk to me if I don't talk to you first. You don't even look my way! And then you come to my apartment, get blood all over my floors, and expect me to be okay with that?"

He stormed over to you and glared.

"All I have is that club. I need it. I need it to sleep. It makes me feel born again," Jack said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"You're pathetic. You have ME. Am I not enough for you?" you snarled.

Jack answered quietly, "No, you're not."

You threw your hands up into the air and walked away from him again. And again, he followed.

"Be honest with me. Is someone hurting you? Are they forcing you to be part of their club? What is going on?"

You took his hand in yours and looked into his eyes. You searched his face for any sort of answer, a sign, anything.

He pulled away and frowned at you.

"No one is forcing me to do anything. I can't- I can't talk about it alright? It's one of the rules," Jack said.

"Be. Honest," you sighed. You felt a lump starting to form in your throat. You were getting choked up and your eyes were watering.

Jack noticed, but he didn't know what to do. He never knows what to do. He glanced at you and reached out to touch your shoulder, but you turned away.

You heard his footsteps walking towards your door, open it, and then leave. You knew he didn't leave right away. He never does. He just stands outside your door like a fool, waiting for you to open it. And every damn time, you opened it for him. But tonight was different. You kept the door closed and locked.

"I'm sorry."

You heard him, and he knows you heard him. But how can an apology be real if the same mistake keeps happening over and over?

You heard him sob outside your door, and he knows you heard him.

"Goodbye, Jack. Don't come here again," you whispered.

He heard you, and you know he heard you.

[END]

MEU DEUS

O Kuku ta com cara do Malthus, imaginei o Kuku e o Fernando sendo primos, Kuku sendo do interior sem nunca ter tocado uma mulher (não por falar de opção e sim pq ele quer esperar o amor da vida dele) e o Fernando sendo o primo descolado, que ao mesmo tempo que quer esperar o amor, ele tambem não consegue ficar sem um "rabo de saia". Dai o Kuku vai fazer uma visitinha na casa do Fer, dai eles vão pra uma festinha, não tão grande mas tmb n é pequena, nessa festa eles bebem, o Fernando já meio loko conheçe uma mina quietinha com cara de virjola que nunca foi escolhida por um homem, e o Kuku já tava de olho nela faz tempo, o Fer chega nela na mesma hora que o Kuku, os dois se olham com aquele olhar, tipo " eu cheguei primeiro" "não, eu cheguei primeiro" mas dps eles acabam dividindo ela😍.

#Kukumeumarido

#fernandomeuamante

O SORRISO DO KUKU E A CARA DE PUTO DO FER VOU CHORAR

Pqp, eu cuidaria tanto de vc Fran😭

#menamorafran

such a sweet picture :(💖

,, YOUR MINE ‘‘ nicholas chavez

warnings : smuttttyyyy

a/n : this is so long i’m sorry

summary : a virgin meets her new priest, charlie, and has unholy thoughts about him.

THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE. IF YOU DONT SUPPORT/LIKE THIS THEN DONT READ IT !!!

PART 2

Maddie sat in the pew, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had turned white. She felt the cool wood of the church beneath her and inhaled deeply, trying to focus on the familiar scent of incense and the soft flickering of candlelight. The nave was quiet, save for the low murmur of a few others whispering their prayers. It was late afternoon, and the sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting hues of red, blue, and gold onto the marble floor.

She knew she needed to go to confession. Her stomach churned with guilt, and her heart raced every time she thought about what she was about to confess. It wasn’t her first time in the sacrament of penance, but this felt different. This was something she had never admitted to anyone, not even herself, until now.

She glanced toward the confessional, its dark wooden frame both inviting and intimidating. Her eyes flickered up to the crucifix above the altar, and she whispered a silent prayer for courage. Her new priest, Father Charlie, was in the confessional today. The thought of facing him in that small booth made her throat tighten, but she had no other choice. The weight of her secret was becoming unbearable.

Maddie had only known Father Charlie for a few months, ever since he had arrived at their parish. He was younger than she had expected—soft-spoken but with a presence that commanded attention. There was a warmth about him, something that made people feel at ease. But for Maddie, that ease had quickly turned into something else. Something she didn’t want to admit to herself, let alone to God.

With trembling hands, she stood and walked toward the confessional. Each step felt heavy, as though she were wading through water. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached the door and knelt down inside the small wooden booth, closing the door behind her. The familiar smell of wood polish and candle wax filled her nostrils, calming her for a brief moment.

Through the mesh screen, she could see the outline of Father Charlie sitting on the other side. She heard him clear his throat softly, then speak.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” he began, his voice low and calming.

Maddie crossed herself and whispered, “Amen.”

He waited a moment, allowing the silence to settle between them, before he continued. “How long has it been since your last confession?”

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “A month, Father.”

There was another pause, and Maddie could feel his presence more acutely now, even though she couldn’t see him clearly. The confessional felt smaller than usual.

“Go ahead,” Father Charlie said gently. “What do you wish to confess?”

Maddie’s heart hammered in her chest, her hands trembling in her lap. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had rehearsed what she was going to say a dozen times in her mind, but now, in the quiet of the confessional, her carefully planned words scattered like dust.

“Father,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “I…I’ve been having impure thoughts.”

There was a moment of silence on the other side, and Maddie wondered if he could hear how fast her heart was beating. She clenched her hands tighter, trying to stop them from shaking.

“Go on,” Father Charlie said gently, his tone encouraging, as though he could sense her fear.

“I…” She swallowed again, her mouth dry. “It’s not just impure thoughts, Father. They’re about…someone.”

Maddie’s face burned with shame knowing she is talking about Father Charlie. She wanted to melt into the floor, to disappear and never have to face this moment again. She had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable, than she did in that instant.

On the other side of the screen, Father Charlie smirked His breathing remained steady, and Maddie wondered what he must be thinking. How could he not be shocked? How could he not recoil at her words? But there was no reaction. No sharp intake of breath, no awkward shuffling. Just silence. Maddie couldn’t bear it anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, her voice breaking. “I don’t know why this is happening. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but every time I see him, every time I hear his voice, I…I can’t help it. These thoughts, these feelings, they just…they won’t go away.”

Her chest tightened, and she fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She had never felt more ashamed, more humiliated.

After what felt like an eternity, Father Charlie finally spoke, his voice steady but softer now.

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said, his words careful. “It takes great courage to confess such things.”

Maddie let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, but her heart still raced. She had no idea what he would say next. Would he condemn her? Would he tell her that her feelings were sinful, that she was wrong to have them?

“What you are feeling,” he continued after a brief pause, “is not uncommon. We are all human, and we all experience moments of weakness, moments when our thoughts stray in ways we wish they wouldn’t.”

Maddie nodded silently, tears beginning to blur her vision. She hadn’t expected compassion. She felt a flicker of relief, though the weight of her shame still pressed down on her.

Maddie wiped away a tear that had fallen, her heart feeling lighter now. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this—a gentle reminder of her humanity, of their shared struggle. It wasn’t condemnation, but understanding.

“Your penance,” Father Charlie said quietly, “is to say three Hail Marys and to spend some time reflecting on the love that God has for you. He knows your heart, Maddie, and He forgives you.”

She nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her for the first time in weeks.

“Thank you, Father,” she whispered.

As Maddie stood to leave the confessional, she paused for a moment, her hand on the door.

A week had passed since Maddie’s confession, and though she had tried to focus on her prayers, her thoughts kept returning to that moment in the confessional, her voice trembling as she admitted her feelings to Father Charlie. She avoided eye contact with him at Mass, ashamed of what she had shared, but there was something else too—an undeniable pull toward him, a curiosity about how he had handled her confession so calmly, so compassionately.

After Sunday Mass, Maddie lingered in the church longer than usual, kneeling in prayer but mostly trying to gather her thoughts. The church was quiet now, the soft shuffle of feet and the rustling of coats fading as people slowly filed out. The sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting a golden hue over the altar.

She was about to stand and leave when she heard a voice behind her.

"Maddie?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him—Father Charlie. His voice had become unmistakable to her now, carrying a warmth that both soothed and unsettled her.

She turned slowly and found him standing just a few feet away, his black cassock crisp and formal, yet his expression kind and open. He wasn’t wearing the confessional mask of formality. This was just Charlie now—no screen, no distance.

“Father,” she said softly, her heart pounding in her chest again.

“I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment,” he said, taking a step closer. He gestured toward one of the pews, and she nodded, sitting down as he joined her. There was a moment of silence, and Maddie could feel the weight of it hanging between them. She kept her gaze lowered, studying her hands in her lap, unsure of what he was about to say.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about your confession,” Charlie began, his voice steady but softer than usual. “And I believe there’s more to discuss than what we could cover in the confessional.”

Maddie’s heart skipped again, her stomach twisting. She didn’t know where this was going, but the tension in her body made her pulse race. She looked up at him, his eyes calm but serious.

“I want to help you, Maddie,” he continued, his voice gentle. “But I think it would be easier to talk in a more private setting. Not here, where everything feels so… formal.”

Her pulse quickened, and she felt the awkwardness rising inside her. Was he inviting her to…? No, she shook the thought away before it could fully form. He was still her priest, and this was still about her spiritual guidance. There couldn’t be anything more.

Charlie cleared his throat, his eyes shifting slightly as if he could sense her discomfort. “I was thinking,” he said slowly, “if you’re comfortable with it, maybe you could come over for dinner. We could talk more freely there, without the pressure of the confessional.”

Maddie blinked in surprise. Dinner? The idea of sitting across from him in a more intimate setting—without the screen, without the anonymity of the church—made her thighs burn. Her immediate instinct was to refuse, to put up a wall and protect herself from what she knew could happen if she let her guard down.

But then she remembered his kindness, the way he had listened to her confession without judgment, offering compassion where she had expected rejection. Maybe this was an opportunity to finally get clarity, to face the confusion and temptation she had been wrestling with.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Charlie added quickly, his voice sincere. “This isn’t… this isn’t about anything inappropriate, Maddie. I just think it would help to have a real conversation. I understand if it’s too much, though.”

She met his eyes for the first time since that day in the confessional. There was nothing predatory in his gaze, no ulterior motive—just concern. He genuinely wanted to help her, and despite her fear, she trusted him. That trust, however, made it even more complicated.

“I… I think that might help,” Maddie said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, but Maddie barely touched her food. She could feel Charlie’s eyes on her every now and then, and the knot in her stomach tightened with each glance. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Maddie, I’ve noticed something,” he said, his tone gentle but serious. She looked up from her untouched plate, her heart skipping a beat. “What is it?”

“You’ve been… distracted. During Mass.”

Her heart sank, her breath catching in her throat. She knew what was coming. She could feel it in the air between them. Charlie leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching hers.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been avoiding eye contact with me lately,” he continued. “And even before your confession… I could tell something was on your mind.”

Maddie’s face burned with embarrassment, and she dropped her gaze to the table, unable to meet his eyes. She had hoped he hadn’t noticed, but of course he had. He was her priest, after all—attuned to the nuances of the people in his care “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Charlie didn’t say anything for a moment, waiting for her to continue. The silence hung between them like a heavy weight.

“You’re right,” Maddie admitted, her fingers trembling as she played with the edge of her napkin. “I’ve been distracted. I haven’t been able to focus during Mass, and it’s… it’s because of you.”

Her last words hung in the air, and the room seemed to grow even quieter. Maddie dared to glance up at Charlie. His face remained calm, though his eyes darkened with something she couldn’t quite read.

“Because of me?” he asked softly, his voice steady .

Maddie’s chest tightened, and she took a deep breath, knowing she had no choice but to confess the truth now. She had come here to confront her feelings, to address what had been eating at her, and there was no turning back.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you in a unholy way” she admitted, her voice cracking with emotion. “Ever since you came to the parish, it’s been… difficult. I know it’s wrong, I know you’re my priest, but I can’t help it. It’s like you’re always on my mind, and it’s affecting everything—my prayers, my faith, my peace.”

Charlie’s expression didn’t change, but his hands clenched slightly around the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. He remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

“I thought maybe talking to you tonight would help me figure out what to do,” Maddie continued, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But being here… it’s just making it harder. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way.”

Her confession was out now, laid bare between them. She could hear her own heartbeat in the silence that followed, could feel the tension radiating through her body, as if the air between them had thickened with unsaid words.

Charlie’s eyes flickered with something—sympathy, perhaps, but also an understanding that ran deeper than she expected. He exhaled slowly, as if gathering his thoughts before speaking.

“Maddie,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “I understand how difficult this is for you. And I need you to know that what you’re feeling isn’t unnatural. These thoughts, these feelings… they happen. To both of us.”

Maddie’s breath hitched. Both of us? Did that mean…?

Charlie leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. “I mean that maybe it’s better to… release some of the tension. These thoughts, these feelings—you don’t have to hold onto them so tightly.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt a cold wave of shock ripple through her. “Release the tension?”

Charlie nodded slowly, his voice low and calm, but his words held a gravity she hadn’t expected. “I know you’ve been trying to resist it, Maddie, but sometimes resisting only makes the desire stronger. It’s human nature. Maybe… maybe it would help to let yourself feel it. To stop fighting against it.”

Maddie’s face flushed hot, her heart racing as the implications of his words sank in. She felt a lump form in her throat, and her hands trembled slightly in her lap.

“You mean…” she started, but her voice faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

Charlie’s gaze didn’t waver. “What I mean is… it’s okay to acknowledge your desire. There’s no shame in it. It’s natural to have these feelings, especially when there’s such strong tension between us.”

Maddie’s eyes widened, her stomach tightening with a mix of shock and something else—something dangerous that she had been trying to push down since the moment she walked through his door.

“Have you ever…?” Charlie hesitated, but the question hung heavily in the air. “Have you ever touched yourself while thinking about me?”

Maddie’s breath caught in her throat. The question was like a punch to the gut, but it was also the very thing she had been dreading and hoping he wouldn’t ask. The truth was that she had—more than once, in the privacy of her bedroom, late at night when the thoughts she couldn’t suppress became too overwhelming to ignore. The guilt had followed her like a shadow, but the need had been stronger, overpowering.

She dropped her gaze to the table, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of her napkin tightly. She couldn’t meet his eyes, not after that question.

“I…” She started to speak but hesitated, the shame and desire warring within her. “Yes,” she whispered, barely able to say the word aloud. “I have.”

The admission felt like a weight lifting from her chest and, at the same time, a heavy anchor pulling her deeper into the dangerous waters they were treading. She had crossed a line, and now she was standing at the edge of something she couldn’t undo.

Charlie exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair as if he had expected the answer but needed to hear it from her. His gaze was intense, but there was no judgment in his eyes, only a strange understanding that made her feel both relieved and more vulnerable than ever.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Charlie said quietly, his voice softer now, almost soothing. “You’re human, Maddie. We both are. And these feelings, these urges… they’re part of that. Trying to deny them only makes them stronger.”

Maddie’s head spun, the room suddenly feeling too small, too intimate. She had come here seeking clarity, hoping to calm the turmoil inside her, but this—this was only making the storm stronger. She had confessed her desires to him, and now he wasn’t telling her to resist them. He wasn’t telling her to fight back. He was telling her to let go.

“But…” she began, her voice shaking. “You’re a priest. This… this isn’t right.”

Charlie sighed, his gaze softening. “I know. Believe me, I know. But right and wrong aren’t always black and white. There’s no sin in acknowledging desire, Maddie. There’s no sin in being honest with ourselves.”

Her breath caught as he began to run his hands up her thighs. He kisses up her neck and says, "Tell me you want this, tell me you want me." She pauses to consider whether doing this was the best course of action.She then recalls Charlie claiming it wasn't a sin, so why would he lie about that? Eagerly nodding, she says, "Yes, please, I want you."

Her eyes roll back to her head as he moves to her private area and begins gently massaging her covered clit. He whispers in her ear, making her thighs burn, "I remember those times when you wore those short skirts. It's like you wanted me to bend you over in front of everyone and punish you."

Once more, he begins to kiss up her neck, but this time he sucks part of it. Leaving a dark spot, she groans loudly at the strange sensation. He smirks.

His hand begins to go toward her breasts, giving her skin shivers. He unbuttoned her blouse and said, "Every time I saw you in church, your blouse always unbuttoned around me, it's like you wanted it to happen." She says nervously, "I did it on purpose to get your attention."

His eyes darkened and he looked up at her. She yelps as she felt him clutch her throat. He exclaims, "You're such a slut for me," and presses his lips to hers. Even though she has a million things on her mind, her heartbeat is happening ten times quicker than she is. His thumb resting on the side of her jaw, as he pulled her hair back behind her ear with his other hand.

A fast kiss was exchanged between the two. As their tongues swirled together, he inserted his tongue into her mouth. Maddie felt as though her fantasies were becoming true. His movements sped up till he came to stop and pulled away. Maddie lets out a gasp. "Lay on the bed," he insists.

She approaches his bed nervously and crawls to the middle of it. She spins around to face him. He looks her over. Her stomach churns as she looks at her from top to bottom.

He moves toward the bed and crawls on all fours to her. He looks at her between his eyebrows as he begins to kiss at her legs and continues all the way up to her thighs.

"Hey. I won't do anything that you don't want me to.” He whispers, "Tell me if you're not comfortable” She considers it for a brief moment. concluding that she wants for him to continue. She tells him, "Don't stop," he licks his lips and smirks.

Eagerly he tugs at her skirt. As he tries to slides it down, he realizes there's a zipper on the side. While unzipping her skirt and pushing it until it reaches the bottom of her legs, he maintains eye contact with her.

He presses his nose down into her thighs, planting little kisses on her closeted clit. He groans as she pulls on his hair with a deep moan. He gives her an intense look as he gradually begins removing her underwear. She glances away from him as butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach.

He comments, "You're so gorgeous.. in every way," as he surveys her figure. To prevent her from leaving, he grabs her legs and pins them to the bed. What he provides her, she has to accept. He makes her back arch as he licks her slit.

As if she were the last thing he would ever eat, he puts his head down and begins to devour her. She groans aloud as he gives her a passionate kiss on the clit. He groans louder as she tugs at his hair more forcefully than before.

He approaches her hole and begins carefully putting his finger inside of her. She puts her head down on the cushion, shuts her eyes, and her jaw lowers. He begins to eat her out while fingering her. Sucking on her sensitive clit, he pushes in and out with his finger.

Her tummy begins to feel strange, and her back arches. He smirks as her pussy tightens around his finger. "It's alright, sweetheart.” He comforts her, let yourself go," as she comes undone with a loud groan.

She catches her breath as he emerges from her privates, covered in her juices. He pulls her to him by grabbing a strand of her hair and gives her a kiss. Allowing her to taste herself.

“Your mines now”

Because it's Max Verstappen's Birthday, here is a little appreciation post for him memes and all other I found on Pinterest

size difference with könig and virgin!reader

he knew it was going to hurt; any man the size of him would reflect that under his belt. any woman, no matter the body count, would be in for it during a night with a brute like him.

but when you came along, doe-eyed and so much smaller than him, something stirred on the bottom of his abdomen. behind the zipper of his jeans, his cock chubbed up at first glance.

he was already huge enough to see the outline of his bulge through his jeans, or whatever cargos, he wore, but his growing erection made it that much more obvious.

he had never been one to notice before, but with you, he couldn't help it. the way he dwarfed you as you stood by his side, your (much) smaller hand completely engulfed by his giant one.

despite the size difference, he was gentle—as gentle as he could be. a brute as big as him with a tiny doll like you—like porcelain, you were going to break. and he was going to be the one to break you.

he ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip collecting your slick along his cock. a whimper, or mewl, escaping your throat whenever he grazes your clit. his breathing is heavy, muttered curses and phrases in german under his breath.

"so eine hübsche muschi, nur für mich..." his voice is hushed and low, as if he's talking to himself about how heavenly your puffy lips are against his girthy cock.

he keeps a large hand around the base of his girthy dick, the other planted on the bed, just above your hip as he steadies himself. the bed is dipping heavily with the focused weight.

he finds himself growing impossibly harder at the sounds of your strained squeaks, watching the sweat bead down the side of your face before his eyes find where his cock lays heavy against your sopping cunt.

your thighs slick with arousal and previous climaxes as he had worked you open on his tongue and fingers, his skin glistening under the light. your juices painted his chin, his fingers pruned from being buried deep in your sensitive pussy, desperately swallowed by your spongy walls.

he hummed lowly, almost a groan as his hand around his girthy base slapped his cock against your slick labia, the head of his cock beating against your swollen, hypersensitive clit he'd been toying with all night.

"diese muschi gehört mir, nicht wahr? hmm...?" you knew not what he said, but his tone was smug, cocky as he gave your cunt a few more slaps with his dick, humping his length between your folds.

you were squirming under him, not even fucked by his huge cock yet, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation, teetering along the lines of being too much. but it was just right.

his hand propped on the bed found your waist, stilling you as his hips halted, dragging his tip down your pussy to your leaking slit. evidence of previous orgasms spilled from your hole, "shhh, sei still, mein schatz..." he cooed, a callouses thumb tracing along the soft, supple skin of your waist before digging his fingers into your flesh.

he needed self control as he lined his cock with your hole, teasing along the folds before beginning to split you in half. whimpers falling from your lips at the mere task of just fitting the tip past your entrance.

he groaned loudly at the way your pussy welcomed him, swallowing his bulbous head with a squelch and a tight pulse as he stretched you open. the previous rounds of his finger and tongue doing nothing to aid the sheer stretch of your cunt around his dick.

it hurt like hell as he inched his cock deeper, reveling in the way your face contorted, strangled cries leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes. your face flushing pink as salty trails glistened down your heated cheeks.

it was like you were practically impaling yourself on his thick, meaty cock. your body being split down the middle to accommodate for such space he took up in your cunt, your spongy walls clamping tightly around his dick.

"Scheiße, schatz...du bist so eng..." he cursed, his hand around his girth retracting to his hip.

he watched as his cock sunk deeper past your puffy lips, the way your pussy swallowed him with a sickening, lewd squelch that made his eyes flutter shut. his hips bucked, followed by curses as he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips. speeding up to a comfortable pace.

the skin of your backside quickly flushed red as his pace became more and more relentless—he had told you before he wasn't good with virgins. you assured him you could handle it, and he promised he would try to be gentle. key word, try.

well, he had tried, and failed as his hips desperately rut into your heavenly, slick pussy with lewd sounds of your skin coming together rapidly. his full, heavy balls slapping against your backside with each time his hips pounded into your cunt.

he was a lost cause, muttering incoherent phrases of half-german, half-english. most of what you could pick out was praises to your pussy, how you were made to fit his cock in your tight hole—though you were too cock-drunk, babbling nonsense into moans under him to hear a word he said.

"verdammt, deine muschi ist der himmel, kleines mäuschen..." he praised in a coo, his body now leaning to cover yours, his heavy weight pressing your back further into the mattress, "so verdammt eng und nass..."

his hand on your waist slid down to your stomach, he swore he could feel the skin warp under his calloused prints as his bulbous tip slammed your cervix.

when his eyes finally left where your two body conjoined, up to your pretty face where tears streamed down your cheeks, disheveled hair splayed across the pillow behind your head and matted to your forehead. his eyes fluttered shut as his dick twitched and throbbed against your spongy walls.

your pained cries turned to whimpers and hiccuped moans, hands clawing at his back to pull him impossibly closer in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper.

it wasn't long until you felt another warmth building in your lower abdomen, familiar in feel to the previous, but so much more hammering as it built, and built, and built.

könig could feel how you sunk your nails into his back, as if you feared he would deny you the ecstasy of release. he felt the way your cunt clamped around him, pulsing in sync with your heartbeat—his too.

his hips faltered—he had never finished this quick, but then again, your pussy was like a fucking drug, and he was an addict.

"das ist es...that's it, mauschen..." he whispered breatlhessly into your ear, his heavy, warm breath against your skin as he waited for your release to boil over with his.

he moaned loudly against your sweat, sticky skin, uttering more praises under his breath as he felt his cock twitch. he watched the way your jaw went slack, how your body shuddered under him before going limp, boneless under his weight.

a shuddered breath slipped past his lips as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls a creamy, thick white as he filled you. his eyes fell back to your pussy, watching as he's milked dry of every last bit of his pearly, white cum.

he rubbed a rough thumb over your clit, watching you flinch and squirm from the sensitivity as he kept an eye on how his gooey release oozed from your hole, despite the fact his cock was still plugged inside of you.

he hummed lowly in appreciation as he took two fingers to spread the thick substance to coat your folds.

fuck, maus, you were ruined for anyone else now, guess you're stuck with him.